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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942809">The Roles Destiny Has Chosen For You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Destiel by proxy, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Kink Meme, Other, Roleplay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:53:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire never forgot Castiel's presence inside her. In those few moments, she caught glimpses of a love so deep, it would outlast death. She's been in love with Dean Winchester ever since. All grown and a hunter herself, she runs into someone that bears a striking resemblance: his son, Ben. Determined to make the most of it, she lures him into a romance, and eventually coaxes him into roleplaying what she truly wants — he'll be his long-lost father, and she'll be the angel that pulled him out of Hell.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Braeden/Claire Novak, Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Roles Destiny Has Chosen For You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this ages ago for the blindfold_spn kink meme, but didn't ever migrate it over here till now.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The world of hunters never really changes.  Major events happen, angels walk among us, someone creates a rip in the delicate balance of good of evil, but hunters stay the same.  There are always gritty places they congregate to swap stories and tips, and always the chance when you roll into some town besieged by mysterious local deaths, you'll find someone else in boots and flannel digging through records at City Hall.</p><p>Claire's been doing this a while.</p><p>That's how she meets Ben.  Eighteen miles across the Kentucky border, there's a run-down town called Pierson.  It's a pretty straightforward hunt. Ten people killed in the same house, spread out long enough that the local law hasn't noticed a pattern.  Poltergeist, of course.</p><p>She breezes into the sheriff's office looking for information on the latest deaths, a young couple who bought the place a month earlier.  She's in her best navy skirt suit, blonde hair swept back in a tight ponytail.  All business, projecting authority.</p><p>"Looks like someone beat you to the punch," the deputy says when she flashes a badge at him.  He glances over his shoulder, and she follows his gaze out across the hall and straight through the window of an office. And right there, sitting across from a paunchy guy in uniform, is Dean Winchester.</p><p>Except it's not.  </p><p>It takes her a few beats to make out the differences, but she has every detail of Dean's face and build pressed so deeply in her memory, she knows in her bones this man isn't him. The guy's features aren't quite as sharp; his arms and chest aren't quite as thick. There's something about his posture, too, and the pull of the smirk. He's not the man she's spent ten years thinking about every time she gets off.</p><p>But he's close enough.</p><p>The only challenge was overcoming her own pangs of disappointment. The rest is easy. </p><p>She sails into the office, introduces herself as his partner, and takes over questioning.  By the time they're out of the building, he's wrapped so tightly around her finger that all it takes is one tilt of her head, a hand pulling the pin out of her hair, and a, "So, want to buy me a drink and discuss this hunt?" and she couldn't lose his attention if she wanted to.</p><p>They leave Pierson together when they waste the poltergeist.</p><p>**</p><p>Ben, she learns, doesn't know much about his father.  He popped in and out of his life a few times throughout the years.  Always did his best to keep it together.  Never wanted Ben to know too much about the hunter life, but he picked things up anyway.  It's been five years since he last saw him.</p><p>"He never came around much after that whole heaven-and-hell thing," he says one night, when he's worked his way through a six pack and she's asked all the right leading questions.  He rakes a hand over his short-cropped hair and gives her a rueful smile.  "I don't think my mom ever told him he was really my dad. Not sure it would have mattered much either way.  All that angel crap did a real number on him."</p><p>His voice, his gestures — they're all so much like Dean's, she gets wet between the legs.  </p><p>Claire squeezes her thighs together, willing herself to be patient.  To not push for too much, too soon.  She knows what these guys with daddy issues are like; she's practically one of them, herself, and she's been hooking up with variations on the theme longer than she's been out here wasting monsters. That's all that ever scratched the itch, made her feel like she actually had her hands on Dean for a little while. </p><p>Castiel only occupied her body for a little while, but she felt everything.  He tried to soothe her from inside, tell her it was all going to be okay, but he didn't need to.  She knew it would be.  Nothing as powerful as the emotions that moved through her then could ever be stopped — not by evil, not by God.  </p><p>Some small part of her hoped she might cross paths with one of them again when she started hunting, but she knew it wouldn't really matter. They belonged to each other, and she was just a bystander.</p><p>This is as close as she'll ever get, and if you want the upper hand with guys like this, you have to play your cards right. Have a plan. </p><p>You have to be a good hunter.  </p><p>Claire strings him along for almost two months before fucking him.  By that point he's convinced himself that she's something special, that he's gotten to know her, that they have some kind of bond.</p><p>"You and me," he says afterwards, stroking the back of his hand down her arm. "Kids of people who stopped the apocalypse. Other people don't get it, you know? Even other hunters, they don't get how serious the stuff we do is. Just us."</p><p>Claire rests her head on his shoulder and shuts her eyes.  With her hand over his heart, her arm feeling the rumble of that gritty voice in his chest, she can almost trick herself into believing it's really him.  Her Dean.</p><p>She keeps it as normal as possible after that, but it's not like Ben could ever guess what she's really after.  She doesn't ask him much about his dad anymore; she's heard all she needs to know through the hunter grapevine.  Wherever he and Sam are, she's pretty sure Castiel is with them.  </p><p>That hurts, a little, but it's a good kind of hurt.  It's the way things should be.</p><p>**</p><p>They're both riding the post-hunt adrenaline rush when they get back to the motel in Barstow.  </p><p>It's been six months of this.  Hunting as a team, driving back roads in his '71 Chevy Nova, wasting everything in their path.  She's actually happy, happier than she ever would have thought.  She tries to not let it show too much, because that keeps him where she wants him — working for it, wanting her, trying to find ways to make her happy.  He doesn't get that she can't ever love him back, but she lets him try to win her over.  </p><p>It feels kind of like living someone else's life. Then again, on some level that's all she's ever really been after.  The way Ben looks at her sometimes, when they're on an open highway and blasting the radio and the sun hits his hair just right — that's how she always imagined Dean would look at Castiel, if he ever figured it out.</p><p>"I want something," she says when they tumble in the door that night, Ben's hands already up under her t-shirt.  They're both sweaty and dirty, and he's bleeding a little where he was hit when the ghost threw him, but it's perfect.</p><p>"Anything," he says against her neck.  He nips at the skin, makes her eyes shut and her fingers curl in the plaid flannel of his shirt.</p><p>"Anything?  You promise?"</p><p>"Yeah."  He chuckles, his fingers already working on the clasp of her bra.  "You name it."</p><p>Claire shuts her eyes.</p><p>"Call me Cas."</p><p>"Cas?" he repeats distantly, popping her bra open.</p><p>"And I'll call you Dean," she says, leaning in to breathe the words against his ear.  "I'm your angel.  I saved you."</p><p>Ben freezes for a moment, like he's confused, or not totally on board. She's not about to give up now, though.  She's waited a whole lifetime for this moment, and her hands shake eagerly as she reaches down to yank open his jeans.</p><p>"I saved you from <i>Hell</i>, Dean," she says, her voice getting thicker with emotion.  "You should love me. You do love me, don't you? For saving you — for taking care of you? I'm yours, Dean. I've always been the angel watching over you."</p><p>Ben suddenly comes to life at that, like those words — or some version of them — are what he's been waiting for all these months.  He pulls her up against his chest and kisses her hard enough to hurt, his tongue licking into her mouth and his hands reaching up to wind her hair around his fists.</p><p>She moans into the kiss, letting him pull her over to the bed as she shoves his jeans down.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. That's right. You saved me," he echoes, dragging his mouth down her throat.  Claire shuts her eyes when he yanks the buttons of her shirt open, her whole body flushing with a hot rush of arousal and victory.  Ben reaches between her legs, gripping her where she's hot and wet under the denim.  "God, Cas.  This what you want?  You just want me to love you, huh?"</p><p>She whimpers and nods, helping him strip her own jeans down her thighs.  She's so wet, her panties are soaked, and Ben hisses a little when he presses his fingers there.</p><p>"S'okay," he mutters, shoving his hand down the front of them and easing a finger down where it's slippery and throbbing.  He rubs her clit just right — the slow, short strokes he's learned she likes best — and presses his face against the curve of her breast.  "I want it, too.  I want it — I want you."</p><p>She knows, in some distant part of her brain, that he's talking to <i>her</i>, to Claire Novak. He's trying to figure out how this relationship they're acting out relates to the two of them, but she doesn't even care.  He sounds desperate, like he's aching for it — the way she's been desperate and aching for years, and as long as he keeps talking like that, she has what she wants.</p><p>"I know," she breathes, gripping his shoulders as he slips his fingers down and eases one right up into her.  "I know, Dean.  I always knew you loved me, too.  I knew it would be like this."</p><p>Her mouth falls open as he rocks his fingers into her — just one at first, and then two.  It's good, so good her body tightens around them, but it's still not quite right.  It's too… Ben.</p><p>"You can be rougher," she pants, scraping her nails through his hair.  "I want to feel how bad you want me."</p><p>His breaths cut across her tits, harsh and hot, as he twists his fingers a little more sharply.</p><p>"Like that?" he says, his voice low and gravelly.  He pushes into her harder, really fucking her on his fingers, and her hips arch right up into it.  "You believe me now?"</p><p>Claire lets out a shuddering moan as he grinds his cock against her hip.</p><p>"Oh God," she huffs, her whole body trembling when he hooks his thumb up to press against her clit.  </p><p>He seems to sense he's doing something right, because he doesn't stop; he works her there on his hand until her fingers go tight in his hair, all that tension and longing winding up tighter and tighter in her body.</p><p>"Yeah, you're my angel. That's it, Cas, come on."</p><p>"<i>Dean</i>."</p><p>She practically sobs his name when she comes, the rush of slick heat between her legs coming so hard it soaks Ben's hand and the soft skin inside her thighs.  All she can see when she looks down is Dean, and it's so perfect she can't believe it's real.</p><p>He just gazes at her as the aftershocks roll through, until her limbs finally go slack.</p><p>"Can I — can I fuck you?"  He pauses for a second, then adds, "Cas?"</p><p>She nods, toeing her shoes off so he can help her out of the tangle of her jeans, but he doesn't move to pull off his own clothes.  He just eases his cock out of his boxers and gives it a few jerks, his eyes fixed on her.</p><p>She's still recovering from the force of that orgasm, but a fresh spike of heat shoots through her belly when she sees how hard he is.  It's so easy to stay here in this hazy, blurry version of reality where <i>Dean</i> wants it that badly — wants her and Castiel that badly.  Claire covers his hand with her own, sliding her fingers down the length of his cock like it's the first time she's ever touched it.</p><p>"I've wanted this for so long," she says.  The words feel so good to finally say, to admit, to finally let escape from the deepest, most locked-away part of herself.  "For us to be like this."</p><p>Ben leans in and kisses her suddenly.  The hand that comes up to touch her face is still wet, smearing across her cheek.  She can smell herself all over him as he sucks on her bottom lip, and it makes her even hotter — sex with Dean would be messy like this, dirty and savage and desperate.</p><p>"Please," she says.  "I need it, I need — you, Dean.  Don't make me wait any longer."</p><p>He grips one of her legs and hoists it up around his hip, guiding his cock right up to her slit.  She's so wet that it's easy for him to push in, filling her up with one quick movement.  Claire tightens her leg around him, holding him like that for a moment and just savoring it.</p><p>"Fuck," he mutters against her mouth, "that's so good."</p><p>"It's perfect," she whispers, knitting her eyebrows as he starts to move.  </p><p>He's slow at first, like he's getting used to this — usually they fuck fast and simple, but right then she's twined around him, completely tuned in to everything he's doing.</p><p>"God, I've been waiting for this, too.  Been waiting for you to let me love you."  </p><p>He rocks into her with steady, deep thrusts, his elbows pressing into the mattress just above her shoulders.  He pushes her hair away from her face when he kisses her, and this time she kisses back hard — sucking his tongue into her mouth and digging her fingers in his shirt, her hips pushing up to meet his thrusts.</p><p>Ben groans, taking the bait and moving faster.  It's like he's losing control, not able to hold himself back anymore — like Dean's finally taking what she always knew he wanted.</p><p>"Sorry," he pants, "I just — you drive me fuckin' crazy."</p><p>"It's okay."  She kisses his chin where it's rough with stubble, breathing in the smell of the hunt and his aftershave.  "It's all going to be okay, Dean.  I'll always be here for you.  I love you — so — <i>much</i>—"</p><p>She whimpers as his thrusts get shaper, ramming into her hard and deep.  She's knows he's close; he's going to come inside her.  The very idea makes her throb around him, her fingers forming fists in the fabric of his shirt.</p><p>"Oh, yeah – yeah—"  His face goes slack when it hits him, his whole body shuddering over her.  She's already dripping wet, but she imagines she can feel each burst of it — Dean's come filling her up, settling deep inside her where it's supposed to be.</p><p>Ben lets out a heavy, jagged breath when he pulls out and collapses next to her.  He doesn't say anything for a while, and Claire just squeezes her legs together, letting the full weight of the moment settle over her skin.</p><p>This, right here, is as good as she's going to get.  But it's pretty fucking good.</p><p>"Love you, babe," Ben finally says.  He sounds sleepy, but she can tell he's savoring the words.  </p><p>Claire touches the place on his chest where he should have a tattoo — everyone knows the Winchesters have them; maybe she can talk Ben into getting one later — and smiles.</p><p>"Get some sleep. I'll be right here. I'll watch over you."</p>
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